


Anything But Lonely

by Mafia_Angel091



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: A therapist could make a killing here, Abandonment, Abuse, Action/Adventure, All these kids have issues, Anxiety Disorder, Bakugou Katsuki is Bad at Feelings, Brother-Sister Relationships, Character Development, Dabi is Bad at Feelings (My Hero Academia), Dabi is Todoroki Touya, Dadizawa, Divorce, Dog Appa (Avatar), Everyone is getting family in here, F/M, Found Family, Hard of Hearing Bakugou Katsuki, Hard of Hearing Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Hurt/Comfort, I'll probably add more tags if I can think of them, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Multi, Original Character(s), Parental Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Past Sexual Abuse, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Dabi (My Hero Academia), Protective Toph Beifong, Rating May Change, Romance, Sister-Sister Relationship, Slow Burn, Takami Keigo | Hawks is Bad At Feelings, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor's Bad Parenting, Toph and Dabi are either going to kill each other or be unstoppable I swear, Toph is bad at feelings, Toph's parents had issues, We're all bad at feelings here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:01:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29669040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mafia_Angel091/pseuds/Mafia_Angel091
Summary: Dabi was a villain. Ahigh rankingvillain, thank you. A high ranking villain that wants to be left alone. So how the ever, flyingfuckdid he wind up with an apprentice?Also known as: Dabi and Toph met by pure chance. An S ranked villain that just wants to eat his dinner in peace (and bring Endeavour to ruin in the long run). A tiny runaway who aims to be the Greatest Earth Bender in the world, politics be damned. He certainly doesn't give a shit about some over confident, snot nosed brat. She doesn't give two shits what he thinks. The two of them have made it this far on their own strength, their own determination.Funny how things can change with a simple decision.
Relationships: Aizawa & Toph, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Class 1-A, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Eri, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Bakugou & Toph, Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto, Dabi & Todoroki Shouto, Dabi/Takami Keigo | Hawks, Eri & Shinsou Hitoshi, Kaminari Denki/Shinsou Hitoshi
Comments: 31
Kudos: 85





	1. 1- Dabi

**Author's Note:**

> So I finally got around to watching this little show called _Boku no Hero Academia_ and I'm kinda in love lol. This whole story came about because I pictured Toph and Bakugou verbally going at it (honestly, she'd probably give him a brain aneurysm before they even got into a ring together) and from there to her and Dabi entering a quasi apprenticeship/brother & sis relationship. And I'm so for it <3
> 
> I'll try to keep updates steady. And hopefully I'm keeping them in character? I want this to be a long running series (three parter? One giant story?) because lets be real; everyone sucks at feelings. Especially Dabi. And before you ask, yes. I got the title from the song. "Anything But Lonely" by Fivefold is an awesome song and it fits. Or rather, it fits what I have in mind for this series.
> 
> Pretty obvious I don't own either fandoms, other then the OCs of my own creation. I hope you enjoy <3

“You gonna eat that?”

Dabi didn’t even bother with a reply.

_Clearly_ he was going too. It was gas station sushi at its finest- a few limp pieces of nigiri, chunks of bluefin tuna so unevenly sliced you could probably use one as a weapon. An equally sad onigiri completed the set; the rice was hard enough to bash a person’s brains in, the seaweed crackling as he attempted to pick it up. Gas station sushi. Cheap, only slightly healthier than American gas station hot dogs, and just as deadly as eating a twenty day old American taco.

“Helllllo?”

“What do you think,” he snapped as he popped the plastic lid up. The person who spoke was off to his left, clothed in shadow. If Dabi wanted to give a fuck, he could have just sent a blast in that direction and listen to the person scurry away.

As it was, he was exhausted. Another long mission. Another night of cheap food, cheap liquor and expensive drugs to help him get to sleep. The sooner Dabi forced something into his system, the sooner he could slam into his bed face down and pain free.

The kid snorted back, finally stepping close enough for the villain to get a good look. Twelve maybe? Thirteen at the most? She looked as annoyed as him, a thin dark brown eyebrow raised high and a tiny fist on her hip. Dark hair hung in her face, a bare foot tapping a steady rhythm on the sidewalk.“Hell if I know. You’ve been hanging on to it forever.”

“Two minutes.”

“That’s forever, old man.”

Definitely not a Musutafu native then. Most people this close to an S Ranked Villain would have either been screaming for help or just staring at his burn scars and misshappen grafts. The kid’s Japanese had an accent to it- a strange tilting to the words that he couldn’t quite place. He _almost_ wanted to peg her as a street rat but…

She was almost too friendly for that.

“Fuck off,” Dabi grumbled, plopping some bluefin in his mouth. It had a waxy taste to it. Definitely going to give him the shits later. He plucked the second piece out of the container, his stomach rumbling in protest. 

The earth bucked beneath his feet. It was more of a hiccup really- bits of sidewalk cracking upward beneath his scuffed boots, the piece of sushi somersaulting out of his fingers and landing in her hand. “Oh,” she sniffed it, “this expired like four days ago. You can have it back-”

_Little shit-_. No. No! Now was not the time to turn a pre teen into a pile of fucking ashes. Dabi finally had a moment to himself, even if it was hiding in the alleyway like a stray dog. If it had been any other day- if Dabi gave a shit maybe, _then_ he could kill her.

As it was, he stared at the offered sushi. At the grimy fist that held his bluefin tuna and the nails chewed to the quick. “Helllllo?” She shook her hand in front of him. “You gonna grab it or what?”

“...Or what,” he grumbled. “That Quirk-Earth Sense?”

The fish from her hand, flopping on the dirt. Annoyance crossed her features, button nose scrunched up. “Aw damn, I was aiming for the tray.” 

_She didn’t see?_ That piqued his interest. The girl sighed before she plopped down beside him, legs splayed out before her. “I,” She crowed, thumping her fist against her chest, “am an _Earth Bender_ thank you. The Greatest, ever.”

“So its Earth Sense.”

“Earth Bender!”

Her eyes were a dark green and cloudy. It was easy to overlook when she had that mop in her face. “...What the fuck is an Earth Bender?”

“Uh,” she gestured in front of her and tiny shards of cement hovered before them. “This? I move earth? Duh.”

A spark danced between his fingers- bright blue and glowing in the night. “...That’s Earth Sense, you little shit.” With a side helping of echolocation? Radar? Something that helped her navigate the area unaided, especially if she was here at night.

“Says the old man~”

Twenty two was not old. Dabi flexed his fingers, watching the spark dance along his palm, bouncing from fingertip to fingertip. “I’m not old.”

She grinned, toes wiggling in the fall air. The tiny fragments of cement fell to the ground, her point long since proven.“Nah, you’re ancient.”

“...And you’re the greatest at something that doesn’t exist.”

“Earth.” She patted the ground between them. “Earth, er- whoever you are?”

He let the silence settle between them- thick and suffocating. Cold. Silence that was only punctuated by the dying buzz of flickering street lamps at the entrance of the alleyway, the whisper of tires rolling along asphalt and the perky ‘ding ding’ of bells as passerby entered the gas station behind them. If there was one thing to be said about living on the streets, it was the solitude. 

“Beifong.” She broke first, her voice loud in the quiet. A pale thumb gestured to herself. “Beifong Toph. Who are you?” 

_Chinese_. That explained the accent. It didn’t explain why a scrawny Chinese kid was here trying to annoy him to death. “...None of your fucking business.”

“Fine by me. I’ll just call you Edgelord-”

“Dabi.”

Anything but fucking Edgelord. _Anything_. The girl- _Toph_ as she called herself- grinned. “Cool. What’s your Quirk, Dabi?”

He was fucking done for today. Dabi rose to his feet and tossed the tin of remaining food in her lap. Toph had good reflexes- she clamped down on it before any of that shit fell out, even shoving a piece of sushi in her mouth. Dabi spun on his heels, hands jamming into the pockets of his oversized black jacket in an attempt to smother the sparks that were bubbling up. This was exactly why he didn’t deal with snot nosed brats. Old man his ass. Fucking _Edgelord_ of all things!

_May it give you the shits_.


	2. 2-Toph

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing action scenes from Toph's pov was harder then I thought lol. I also kinda got carried away with all the fighting, as evidenced by how long this chap is. Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy it <3

She sees the world in fault lines and shadows.

It’s always been like that, for as long as Toph could remember. Her world was clothed in darkness, buried in smells and drowning in sounds until her toes touched dirt. The moment Toph felt earth, she could _see_.

She could “see” in that quiet shift of dirt; someone adjusting their stance. She could “see” in the way the earth trembled beneath her feet. That brief outline with every vibration- her imagination giving a person shape, a face to match the tone of their voice. And Edgelord- he was tall. Lanky and tall, if she had to guess. When he walked away, bits of sidewalk barely moved. And his voice was deep and raspy and _tall_ ; towering over her. Her nose wrinkled at the memory; Edgelord also smelled like smoke. A smoker maybe?

Either way, Edgelord definitely needed a new nickname.

Toph hummed as she waited- a little collection of random notes, highs and lows playing in time to the swing of her foot. She’d come across this playground by pure accident and it was perfect. Rust coated slides meant no one gave a damn about it; babies weren’t going to be in the area. The swings groaned when Toph whacked at them and there was even a plastic tunnel for her to sleep in! Even if it did reek of cat piss.

She preferred not to breathe in pee if she could help it, so here she was, sitting on the lowest bar of the jungle gym and waiting for the real entertainment to begin. Toph wiggled her toes in the dirt- cars were about forty feet away and the slurred shuffle of feet from far away told her a bunch of drunks were wandering over. A few more adults were already here- tobacco lingered from her left where the swings were, the occasional light “pop” of cans told her beer was being opened. Spray cans had been brought out but Toph ignored that for the feet- the rhythmic steps that told her how wide the makeshift ring would be. And just to be on the safe side, she even trailed a goodish distance behind, dipping her toes in wet paint to memorize the crooked layout (it earned her a few curses from the ring makers but they could choke on Edgelord’s gas station sushi). But the real fun-

“‘Bout time!” Toph hopped to her feet, already thrumming with excitement. She could _feel_ those heavy feet slam into the ground. A big boy- far heavier than Edgelord ever was. There was an off kilter way to his walk; the right side thudding into the ground with more force than the left and a big grin stretched across her face. 

“Alright alright alright,” someone crowed. Some skinny twig of a person; they scurried to the middle of the ring. “Let’s go over some rules- no cops!”

“No shit!” That earned a burst of laughter from her right.

“-no heroes! Anything goes, short of murder. And you fuckers pay the winners their dues! Got it?”

“Yeah,” a chorus of men roared. Toph herself was practically bouncing. She-she couldn’t wait! Finally! She’d only been in Japan for a week and she was just _dying_ for a good brawl-

“I’m first,” Big Boy boomed. Every gigantic thud sent the announcer sprawling to safety and that retching sound sent a shockwave through the men. _Gross_ Toph wrinkled her nose as she pinpointed the bile. It’s sizzle was louder than the curses around her- acid bile. Imagine stepping in that! _Double gross._ “Who’s gonna face me?!”

She’d have to end this quick. Toph stepped forward with her head held high. “You’re mine!”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me-”

“Does it look like I’m joking, Puke Boy?” She thrust a finger in his direction. “Either you throw down some money and tip toe away or you fight me and get beat by a little blind girl.” Her grin shifted into something more feral. “Take your pick.”

“You little shit,” the snarl was perfect and she _saw_ it. That shift in weight- one heavy foot grinding back, a body rearing.

Perfect.

Toph slammed her foot down and the earth rose to meet her. The sizzle of acid striking rock, the sudden shift in atmosphere. The man’s gargled shock, those heavy footsteps slamming on the ground at the same time. 

_Sucker_!

Toph thrust her foot into rock and it shot forward; an explosion of rock and energy, the stench of burning bile lingering in the air as it flew forwards. _Boom boom boom_ \- he was tumbling backwards, trying to avoid a chunk of dirt like an idiot and her fingers clawed through the air. The ground cracked; a smaller missile, a deadlier threat that zoomed to the side and slammed into that right knee. “Fuck,” he shrieked and he hit the ground hard.

Another upward thrust of her hand- his body rocking back as rock slammed into his chin. A quick swipe down and her world rumbled in kind- his body smacked into the ground like a sack of meat, rock and dirt and chunks of concrete that tumbled forward. Toph could sense it- the pressure pressing down on his large form. She could feel it- his heartbeat in the palm of her hand. Frantic, erratic. She could hear it- his gasps of air, pebbles squeezing his throat with the lightest of pressure. 

“Call it,” Toph murmured, hand at the ready.

“I-I surrender.” The wheeze was thunderous in the quiet. “I give up.”

“Cool!” Toph beamed, opening her hand. Dirt was dirt once again- gritty and useless. “Thanks for dinner, loser!”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
“Where’s your parents, little girl?”

“Home.” Not a lie, really. Home just happened to be another country. Toph chunked some yen down; the crumpled paper was slick with sweat. Or blood. She really hoped it was sweat. “Can I have some pork bao buns?”

Silence. Well damn, it was blood. Toph puffed out her cheeks; what could she tell the gas station attendant? At least it wasn’t hers? “Is,” the clerk cleared his throat. “Is that-”

“Yup.”

“Oh.” The person’s voice sounded small. Something was playing on the speakers; an annoying jingle that was nearly drowned out by the dying gasps of coolers on their last legs. The tile floor beneath her feet was sticky and the second she got outside, she was going to find a water fountain and clean them. 

“Pork bao buns. Gimmie all of them.”

The clerk was moving- shoes dragging on the floor and digging around wax paper. “You know if you want authentic, Chinese buns there’s a shop several blocks down, right?” Paper crinkled as steamy goodness was dumped in. “These taste like shit.”

Toph scooped the bag off the counter and held out her hand. She’d be the judge of that. Honestly, the young girl was _starving_. She hadn’t lowered herself to eating out of dumpsters yet; almost no one paid attention to a little girl darting in and out of crowds. But- but it had been close. If she hadn’t found this Quirk fight ring-

Change clinked in her hand and she spun around. Toph wanted to crash but she’d have to wait. Even she wasn’t stupid enough to go to sleep at the park when there was a bunch of angry, butt hurt men roaming around. Especially Big Boy. Eating in an alleyway would have to do.

She ducked into the nearest alleyway, bag swinging. _Oh!_ Toph almost didn’t see it. 

The slow drag of boots against pavement, a person padding towards her. Toph tilted her head to one side; was that...smoke? It took all she had not to thumb her nose as those footsteps drew closer. Maybe not smoke, but the person in question seemed… tall? _Tall!_ “Edgelord!”

“Fucking call me that again,” Edgelord’s voice was a deep rasp, “and I’ll incinerate you.”

“Oh, incinerate? So you’re like a human tiki torch?”

Dabi was definitely close. Toph didn’t even have to sense him to know the man was within arms reach. Something was sparking and she flexed her free hand on instinct; a gentle tug, just a little attempt to have the upper hand should Edgelord live up to his nickname. Dabi’s snort sounded...almost bored? A mix of boredom and sharper tone to it, like the older man couldn’t believe this shit. Either way, it made Toph smirk as she held up her bag. “Want some? I beat up a few losers and got some pork bao buns.”

Nothing.

Honestly, this was like trying to converse with a brick wall. Toph knew the older man was still there so she reached into the bag to pull out a precious bun. “Get ‘em while they’re hot, Dabi.” She shoved it in with a big gulp: all delicious, yummy dough, a burst of sweet barbecue pork that made her feel like she was on cloud nine. Or maybe it was just because she was starving? Either way, she dug around for her second one, taking a good chunk out of it.

“...I’m not taking a fucking bun…”

“Fine. More for me.” Toph popped a third one in her mouth, making a point of smacking her lips. The clerk was right; they did taste like shit. “Hey,” she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Walking.”

Toph snorted. “Gas station sushi?”

There was a moment of silence, boots shifting. “...Give me a damn bun.”

“Get it yourself.” She held out the bag to him, pleased to know he was digging around for a bun. The pair munched in relative silence- or as quiet as they could be. Toph had no problem letting the world how starving she was, and after her fifth (or sixth?) bun, she was starting to maybe regret inhaling her dinner. Her mom used to chastise her about that- a small frown here, a delicate brush of hair behind Toph’s ear there. _It’s not ladylike_ , Mom’s voice bubbling up in the back of the young girl’s mind. Sweet and constant, warm and tired because they both knew Toph would never listen. _They’ll think you were raised in a barn._.

“Space out like that and you’ll find a knife in your throat.”

Toph blinked, jerked back to the present once more. “Wha- I didn’t space out!” She could feel her face heat up and it took all the young girl had not to give some weak excuse. She-she wasn’t a _child_! “I was just lost in thought!”

Dabi snorted. “...Spaced out.”

“Look, no one is going to stab me!” Toph thumped her chest for emphasis. “I’ll see them coming.”

“...With your Earth sense?”

“Earth bending!”

“Earth sense,” the man seemed utterly bored. “Which will do you no good when you wake up choking on your own blood. How have you not died yet?”

_Dunderhead!_ Toph narrowed her eyes. “I can take you on, Sparky. And _win_.”

She had a three second warning.

One second to register the swing of cloth and an arm.

One second to hear the hiss of flames; a sudden burst of sound that sent a bolt of ice down her spine.

One second to dodge.

She rolled back just as the heat washed over her- oh, he wanted to play dirty?! Fine, Toph could brawl just as hard! A grin was plastered on her face as she slammed her fist into the ground and her world rose up to meet her. A shield of earth; strong rock that blocked the second burst of flame following suit.

Bits of cement were raining down and she caught that quick dart to the left- Toph swiped a hand to the side. A chunk cement hurtled to defend her left flank as she spun around her main shield.

The third blast was far stronger than the first.

Sheer heat, heat that could liquify metal was flowing just inches from her back as she twirled to the other side of her first defense. “I thought you were fighting me, Sparky! Come on! Show me what you got!”

“Heh.” She could practically _see_ the grin on his face, the excitement dripping off every word. “Why don’t you show me some fucking offense then?”

“You want offense, Sparks?” Toph bared her teeth, feet shifting into a proper fighting stance. Dabi was already moving- the air getting hotter. He was winding up for a big blast. “You got it!”

Her world ripped itself apart.

Foundation screamed, chunks of the ground rushing up to defend her as Hell rained down. The heat was unlike anything Toph had ever felt before; a rush of adrenaline and blood, smoke filling her lungs as chunks of rock shifted- crackling and grumbling, sharpening into fine points that shot up towards a moving target with pinpoint accuracy. One chunk hovered above her, taking the brunt of the fiery tsunami. _Shit, Behind!_

She spun around just as a strong hand clamped down on her collar- Dabi yanked her off her feet, slamming her into a wall hard enough to make her teeth snap. Palms slammed into the brick- skin scraping against the burnt clay, her fingernails digging in as a searing hot forearm pressed into her throat. Almost scalding, despite the heavy cloth it was trapped in. “Thought you’d put up more of a fight, brat.”

There’s a hint of iron in her mouth; she must have bit her lip when Dabi slammed her into the brick. “Who,” her breath came out in a shaky gasp but her dark green eyes didn’t waver, glaring daggers at her opponent. “Who said this fight was over?”

Dabi snorted. “Wha-”

A slab of sidewalk barreled into the man’s side. That gasp of pain was music to Toph’s ears even as she was flung to the ground; her knees buckled even as she tried to lean against a brick wall. She could hear Dabi-his loud wheezing. She could see him- he was half hunched over and leaning against the other wall, favoring one side. And damn if she didn’t feel the same way.

Sirens were wailing off in the distance- shrill and panic inducing. “D-damn it,” Toph panted as she attempted to straighten herself off. Sparky had thrown her into the wall pretty hard; she wouldn’t be surprised if she had a bruise or two from it. “The cops!”

She- she had to go. She couldn’t get caught. Not now! Not when-

“Kid.”

Dabi’s voice made Toph’s gaze flicker towards him. It lacked the typical bored tone from earlier, or the irritation from their first meeting. There was something she couldn’t place. “...The cops are coming.” Cloth was rippling, the man straightening up. “I doubt you can take them all.”

Anger flashed through her. “Look Dunderhead-” she started.

“-Or you can come with me.”

_What?_ Toph’s brain screeched to a halt. “...Why?”

“Your Quirk is better than I thought.” A pause, boots shuffling as he ambled forward. “Unless you want to fight a bunch of cops and annoying heroes?”

“I guess,” the younger girl huffed. One hand drifted to her back; there was definitely a brick sized bruise near her spine. “But only if you get me an ice pack ‘cause that body slam actually hurt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww look, they're bonding. Sorta.


	3. 3-Hawks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone <3! There's the _start_ of a small/mild anxiety attack that's mentioned. I'm not sure if its triggering persay given how mild it is (and I didn't get graphic with it) but I did want to give a heads up. So just be careful when you read it, yeah <3?

“Do you know why both of you are here?”

Hawks shot a glance at his hero. Endeavour- _the_ Endeavour, Todoroki Enji- just oozed confidence. Hawks would have killed to be like him- confident, imposing as he sat in a folding chair that creaked beneath even the slightest shit of weight. The Commission was absolutely loaded but they hated springing for new equipment unless they had to; the downside to working for a governmental organization. But-

But Todoroki!

The older man didn’t wilt under Hawk’s handler’s gaze. Impressive, given the woman was barely pushing past five feet and her pen was quick to scribble off punishments at the drop of a hat. Ice blue eyes met her head on, his lips pressed into a thin line. “That new foolish organization? Labor of Villany?”

“League of Villains,” Hawks mumbled under his breath and two pairs of eyes (one hazel and hidden by wire framed glasses, the other that shocking ice blue) snapped to him. “I-er,” Hawks attempted to chuckle, raking a hand through his dark blond hair. “I hear things. You know, memes and whatnot.”

“Memes,” Endeavour repeated. Right. Even great heroes have trouble understanding memes. Hawks should really introduce him to some juicy forums some time. “What-”

“Yes.” His handler- Ishida Ayumu- hummed. She’d actually put make up on for this; Hawks could see the faint dusting of bronze eyeshadow, a shimmer of pink on her lips. The first two buttons of her blouse were undone, a hint of cleavage meant to draw the eye. He also noticed that Endeavour was noticing. Hawk’s wings moved on their own accord- a nervous little shift as he stretched his legs out underneath the table. That… Heroes were known to have troubled love lives; it came with the territory. 

But… But Endeavour was happily married right?

“The League of Villains.” Ishida leaned forward, chest rising with the move. Her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail that nearly screamed, neatly manicured nails drumming on the stack of papers by her side. “They’ve gained new traction in the country and we have reason to believe they’re going to recruit some powerful Quirk users.”

“Pah! As if any could stand against me,” Endeavour boomed.

Her smile was saccharine sweet. “The Commission has several potential targets in mind. But we believe they’re going to look beyond our list. Beyond petty criminals. They want fanatical loyalty. They want dedication to the last breath. They’re on the hunt for the perfect solider.”

Something made his chest hurt. His stomach twisted on himself and Hawks was painfully aware of how parched he was now. He was painfully aware of the irony in that statement, of how tiny this windowless room was- the scent of bleach clawing into his too sensitive nose, the fluorescent lights overhead occasionally flickering. “They want kids.”

“They want kids,” his handler murmured. Her gaze was cold- locked on the Pro Hero as if daring Hawks to utter a comment. 

The older man cleared his throat- a low rumble that “I trust the Commission has looked into delinquency records?” 

“We’ve covered that possibility, yes. We believe we can start here-” Ishida reached for the first paper, tapping a location in Osaka. “There’s a few small time biker gangs but their Quirks-

“-are probably super weak.” The words popped out of the blond before he could stop it. _Shit!_ She did not look pleased at his interruption. Hawks attempted to offer her a carefree smile, already feeling _it_ bubble up. That drowning feeling. She-she was mad. She was _mad_ at him, Hawks could see it. That frown. How her brow furrowed. Her pen darting to the clipboard by her side and the way the pen seemed to _carve_ into the paper, hiragana spelling his doom.

“I-I,” Hawks throat felt painfully tight, palms stupidly clammy despite the thick gloves he wore. When had his hands gotten like this? Even Endeavour was looking at him, heavy brow furrowed. “Sorry,” he cleared in a desperate attempt to be sane. 

Another beaming smile. Perfect PR. Nothing to see here, folks. 

“Sometimes I just get ahead of myself.” Hawks even threw a soft chuckle, threading his fingers together. “See, if you want a kid with a powerful Quirk you either got to start young, or sniff around for a kid that’s never been caught. A kid with continual brushes with the law just says they’re careless.”

That earned a snort from Hawk’s left- Endeavour rolling his eyes. “Pathetic.”

_Pathetic? But- but I just- ___

__Hawks squashed that shit while he still could. Honestly, he knew it was illogical. All of it was fucking illogical! Even if his throat was starting to feel a tad too tight, every breath taking on a sharper edge to it._ _

__Anxiety at its finest; a litany of thoughts he couldn’t stop, even if he yanked out every feather on his back._ _

__Ishida’s chuckle brought him back to the present. Quiet and low, a pale hand shifting through the papers. “Yes, you’d know about that, wouldn’t you _Takami_?” _ _

__

__

__Yeah, he did._ _

__“But that’s why you’ve been summoned.” She slid a paper before him- a missing children’s poster. The image the parents had chosen was...kind of funny. Whereas most posters wanted the children to be sweet and doe eyed, innocent kids who deserve to be at home, tucked in warm bed, this one was… Well, the girl looked pissed._ _

__The image had her dressed in traditional Asian clothing- _hanfu,_ Hawk’s mind supplied, taking in the delicate cream colored cloth, the dark green sash tied up high. Someone had risked their life in applying makeup; a smidge of lipstick, dark green eyes cloudy and staring head on into the camera. Dark hair was neatly parted, her tiny hands balled into fists. If Hawks was going off looks, he would have pegged the young girl as nine. Maybe ten._ _

__“Such a surly looking young girl.” Endeavour clucked his tongue; a decidedly parental move._ _

__Hawks blinked as it hit him. “She’s blind?”_ _

__“Yes,” his handler hummed. “She’s a native from an area near the Huangshan mountains in China. Her family is very well to do.” Something cold and hard entered the older woman’s eyes. “She’s also been the reigning underground Quirk fighting champion of her area for the past two years.”_ _

__What? What?_ _

__“You’re joking,” Endeavour said and Hawks was glad his hero said it because how could a child-_ _

__“The best we can figure, is its a type of seismic sense.” Ishida frowned, staring at the picture. “She can manipulate the earth beneath her feet.” Hazel eyes flicked up to meet Hawk’s golden ones. “At the age of eight she prevented a mine from collapsing on her and the local village children. At ten, she was discovered by the local authorities in a Quirk fighting ring against older teens and _winning_.”_ _

__Endeavour leaned forward, voice dropping an octave. “Such talent. She must be a prodigy. Imagine-”_ _

__“Yes,” the older woman murmured. “ _Imagine_. This twelve year old girl was last seen in Hong Kong a week ago; reports state she’s arrived in Japan. Imagine what the League could do if they got their hands on her.”_ _

__A little girl chunking boulders at people. Hawks whistled, staring at the picture. Memorizing the surly little face. “So...we find her and take her back home?”_ _

__“Yes. With a few modifications of course.” Ishida pushed her glasses further atop her nose. “Hawks, we want you to go undercover in the League. See if you can find her or her location. Once you’ve obtained the child, Endeavour will keep her safe until Chinese authorities can be contacted and she can be safely returned back to her family.”_ _

__“Will other heroes be notified?”_ _

__“That’s on a need to know basis,” Ishida replied. Hawks bit the inside of his cheek to keep from frowning; in other words, no. “But I trust you two will live up to your reputation.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone enjoyed it! Kudos, reviews, and comments give me life <3


	4. 4-Izuku

Numbers and letters dance across the white board; its a language Izuku will never understand, a language that he just can’t wrap his head around. Who even smashed numbers and letters together to make _math_?! 

Still- Izuku tried.

He stared intently at the board- hoping beyond reason that maybe an answer would bubble up, somewhere between that fraction nestled in the parentheses and the mini number two that hovered over a three? An eight? It was hard to tell, given Ectoplasm’s handwriting. Or-or maybe it was the font? Most numbers tended to be hard to read, given the font. Really, anything with numbers. Like reading clocks or trying to count change or staring at a dry erase board in the hopes this craziness would make sense.

“-ya?”

“Sir!” It came out as a near squeak as Izuku bolted upright. 

Ectoplasm did not look amused. With that perpetual mask on ( _frozen in a manic grin_ , the thought popped in the young teen’s head. _That’d scare Mom so much_ ), it was hard to get an idea of what the older man was thinking. But his _tone_ \- “Can you find the square root of X?”

Yup. Izuku was in trouble.

He bit his bottom lip, staring at the board once more. “Um, I’m sorry sir?”

His teacher hummed, the click of artificial legs striking the worn tile loud. The long overcoat swished with every quick stride he made as he approached the front. “If you had been paying attention,” he tapped what Izuku thought was a three. “You would see that this eight here goes here-”  
 _Crap that’s an eight?!_ Izuku offered a tiny nod. “I see.”

“This goes for all of you.” Ectoplasm seemed to straighten; an impressive feat given how tall he already was. “You’re all going to be heroes. You’re all going to save lives. But that doesn’t mean squat if you can’t calculate the terminal velocity of a person hurtling towards the ground.”

“Yes sir,” the entire class intoned.

Every pair of eyes was glued to the clock. To the minute hand just barely hovering over the 3, the soft ‘click click click’ of the second hand utter torture. It was _Friday!_ The older man sighed. “Fine….You can leave a minute ear-”

Every chair scraped against the floor and Izuku bounced to his feet. Kids were tumbling over each other to get to the front door; Ectoplasm could have given them the secret to immortality and every single teen wouldn’t have heard a word. 

“Midoriya.”

“Sir,” Izuku offered a polite smile. He was already itching to escape. It was bad enough he couldn’t focus on the lesson. 

“I’ve noticed you’ve been having trouble learning the concepts in this subject since you’ve arrived to UA-”

“I’ll study harder! I-I’m sorry, I’ll just try harder and-” Izuku would do more then that! He’d- He’d just force himself to learn! Devour every little math book he could get his hands on. If he could sit there and analyze Kaachan’s tactics at the drop of hat, surely something as simple as the square root of X or-”

“You’re muttering, Midoriya.”

“Ah, Sorry~” Izuku cleared his throat. Right. No mumbling. “I-I can try harder.”

Ectoplasm’s hum was deep; a reverberating sound, filtered through the thick, dark mask. “Given how long this has been going on, I believe outside intervention is needed. I’d like to start an IEP for you to help booster your grades; are there other subjects you’re having issues with?”

Science? Science wasn’t a complete dumpster fire compared to algebra though. Izuku shook his head as the final bell rang- his teacher had no power over him now. 

“Good. We’ll see about starting your IEP, Monday, then. Have a good weekend, Midoriya.”

“You too, sir!” It came out as a quick gasp, the teen spinning on his heels. His shoes squealed against the floor as he threw himself into the hallway. He was just another gangly teen now; one of many bodies intent on getting the hell out. It was Friday!

Friday meant late night movie nights (and if Ochaco-chan and Ida-kun had a say in it, it would definitely include the _Ghostbusters_ series) and endless Hot Pockets. It meant finding a quick place to train; to work a little on things Izuku could definitely improve on. The Sports Festival was coming up and...well… Who didn’t want to win?

“No running,” someone yelled- a teacher?”

“Ok!” Izuku skidded around a corner. Freedom! It was right there-

“Oi, _problem child_.”

_Crap!_ Those three words had the young teen tumbling to a stop. “A-ah, yes?” Izuku tried to breathe, gaze flicking to the double doors just a few yards away from him. And then to the speaker in question- Aizawa-sensei. 

It had to be the stealth training. Or maybe it was just some secret gift that all adults got when they got older; Izuku’s mom could do the same thing. Just sneak out of the shadows like a ghost and scare the ever loving crap out of him. His teacher was no exception- the older man was leaning against a door frame, dressed in his typical all black ensemble. His scarf weapon was easy to spot; perhaps one of the most identifying traits about him, really. Thin layers upon layers of cloth curled in around his neck, an almost dull gray color in comparison. “Is something wrong with your hearing?”

Izuku offered a tiny wince. “No sir?”

“Then walk. The last thing we need is you breaking your neck on school grounds.”

“Yes si-oh!” It hit him in a heartbeat. A little spark of a thought, the young teen perking up. He’d almost forgotten, honestly. “Aizawa-sensei, did you hear about that big brawl last night? The one on the other side of the city?”

That earned a quiet snort. “...The entire city heard about it.”

“Yeah.” Izuku nodded. “The news said the sidewalk was all torn up and walls were scorched.” What kind of Quirk could have done that? Some news networks were even saying that chunks of earth were sticking straight up like mini pillars. That alleyway had been utterly _wrecked_. Maybe it was a new villain? Two new villains duking it out? 

“Even if it is a villain,” the older man hummed, deep voice nudging Izuku from his inner ramblings, “it’s none of your business.”

“But sir! We could-”

“No, problem child. Leave this to the heroes.”

...Izuku was going to be a hero. He puffed out his cheeks, staring at his teacher. Right. Leave it to the _adults_. But-

His fingers were itching for pen and paper now. Another entry for his journal- hunting down the mysterious Quirk user that nearly annihilated an alleyway in the late hours of the night. A Quirk user that had to be quick too- no witnesses. No reports of a mysterious person escaping the scene so definitely someone that could blend into the crowd. 

“Midoriya,” there was a warning edge in his voice. “Do you hear me? Leave it to the Pros.”

Izuku had movie night tonight but...he could definitely wander around that area tomorrow night.

“Yes sir.” Izuku offered a polite bow. “Leave it to the Pros. Got it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, comments, and bookmarks give me life!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading <3 <3


	5. 5-Aizawa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thank you so much for reading this. It makes me hella happy <3!
> 
> Ok so first thing's first- I can't write sex/intimacy scenes very well lol. Half of this chap is gonna feature Erasermic and I just wanted to warn you in advance, I tried. Hopefully the intimacy scene is legit and ya'll enjoy it. <3 I try to update this story every two to three days but I've got some work modules coming up starting the 7th with a _big_ thing for work on Thursday and Friday. So updating this week miiight be kinda hard. We should return to normal updates tho shortly.

The Brat was going to live up to his nickname. 

Shouta could already see the writing on the wall. Midoriya wore his heart on his sleeve- every emotion, every sneaky little thought the kid had- and the broadcast had been on every phone. At least all of the damn prefecture had gotten it. And any hero-in-training kid worth their salt would be intrigued by it, let alone professional Pro Heroes.

A mysterious Quirk.

A battle contained to a single alleyway with no witnesses.

No loss of life, as far as local authorities knew.

_We’ll need to up the dorm checks for the next few days_. Shouta padded towards his office with his hands in his pockets. There was a lot to do for a Friday evening and he was already _exhausted_. 

Packing work that needed to be graded over the weekend, glancing at pre-approved lesson plans, checking email. There was pouring over IEPs- was Denki passing all his classes with his aids? Welfare checks- was Bakugou still being a little shit? (The answer to that was always.) When could Shouta drag the young teen kicking and screaming to counseling? The older man never liked how Bakugo or his mother spoke to each other; heated remarks could lead to violent outbursts. But short of actually _witnessing_ something-

The older man grumbled under his breath, irritation already bubbling up. He grabbed at his folders: separated by class and subject, sticky notes smacked on answer keys and grubby, smudged journals from his kids. Everything shoved into a bag and slung over his shoulder. 

Then there was Shinso. Hitoshi Shinso- a lanky freshman with deep bags under his eyes and far too damn skinny for his own good. If the boy wasn’t breaking curfew by being up at the ungodly hour of three am (on the days he chose to stay in the dorms), he was smuggling in bags of Cheetos and foil wrapped, ice cold leftovers when he came back from his parents. It wasn’t unheard of for Shouta to stumble across the teen stuffing his face frantically in a dark corner, like someone was going to take away his food just for breathing.

_That_ was a welfare check Shouta was not looking forward too. 

“Frown any harder and your face will get stuck, love.”

Shouta blinked, back to the present once more. “I’m always frowning,” he huffed, shifting his work bag on his shoulder as his husband pranced into the room. And really...prancing fit. Hizashi Yamada was in perpetual motion. Bubbly and happy with five thousand pounds of hair gel in hair and once upon a time, Shouta would have strangled him.

Well..they did more than strangle these days. A _lot_ more.

A faint smile flickered across his face and that alone seemed to make Hizashi beam. “Not always,” the other man purred, looping arms loosely around Shouta’s neck. Thin blond strands brushed against Shouta’s cheek, their noses brushing against each other. It was such a simple thing. Such a simple touch- Shouta could never win. “What’s wrong?”

He let his fingers rest on Hizashi’s hips, curling them into the black belt loops for a moment. “...Welfare checks.”

“Ah.” A rare frown graced his husband’s face. _He doesn’t have his gel in today_ , Shouta mused as Hizashi inhaled slowly. “On campus or off?”

“Off.”

“Shou-”

“I’m not going by myself.” He was, actually. Or at least heavily leaning towards going by himself. The Bakugos didn’t have an offensive Quirk (barring their son) and Shouta could take on anything the woman threw at him. Legally speaking, going alone would be a lawsuit waiting to happen.

Hizashi hummed- a low note, the pad of his thumb lightly skimming Shouta’s cheek. “I’ll go with you, then.”

“No.” It came out far harsher than Shouta had intended to. A sharp bark, the hint of fear finally leaking into his voice.

Anyone else would have snapped back. Maybe even leave and then Shouta could stew in the maybes and has beens, the endless possibilities. Hizashi Yamada would never be like everyone else.

He watched the understanding dawn on his husband’s face. That glimpse of _hurt_ , that emotion that should never be on the blond’s face. “We’re both mandated reporters, love.” Hizashi kissed him- feather light and soft. “And now I’m _definitely_ going. When?”

“Tomorrow,” Shouta confessed. “First thing in the morning, if I can swing it.”

“Right. Then,” Hizashi offered him a smile. “Be there or be square, hm?”

This man… Shouta exhaled slowly. “Alright~”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Shouta Aizawa is hopelessly in love with Hizashi Yamada.

It’s something he learned to accept. Eons ago (more like a little over a decade and a half ago in reality), Shouta had been petrified. Eons ago, he would have rather swallowed a goldfish then open himself to...to _that_. Life was not kind. It had never been kind. But-

Hizashi sighed, snuggled in close to his side. They had a movie on but Shouta had no idea what it was about. Somewhere between the title credits and a man killing rubber tire, he’d lost interest and focused on the blond slowly falling asleep by his side. Shouta carded his fingers through the soft blond locks, careful not to snag a hearing aid. Slow, steady strokes; fingers pausing to rub small circles against Hizashi’s scalp.

He could feel what little tension the blond had practically melt away. “Shouta,” came the sleepy reply. His head is pressed against the crook of Shouta’s neck, the rest of him stretched out on the couch like a giant cat. “That feels nice.”

“Good.” 

“You’re paying attention to the movie right?” He could almost hear Hizashi’s grin. Painted black fingernails drummed on Shouta’s thigh, a stray kiss placed against his collarbone. “There’ll be a quiz later, teach.”

Shouta rolled his eyes. “Suddenly sentient tire has been exploding things? I think.”

“That’s the blurb!”

“Next Friday, I’m picking the movie.”

“This movie is high art,” the other man chuckled. “You just can’t see it~”

He grabbed a fistful of blond hair and there was a sharp intake of breath, a shiver that seemed to race through both of them. Shouta gently tugged Hizashi’s head back to stare into those eyes- the dark green. Green like summer grass. Green like polished jade. Green flecked with shimmering gold that was far more mesmerizing than any shoddy sci-fi movie. “I can see just fine, ‘Zashi.”

Pink blossomed across his face; a blush that seemed to reach his ears. “Romantic you always makes me weak kneed, Shou~”

That earned a snort. “I’m not romantic.”

Hizashi’s eyeroll was definitely something he learned from Shouta. It was equal parts long suffering and adorable. But the kiss- that was all Hizashi. It was disarming and sweet; tongue sliding against tongue. Their bodies pressing together as if they could get even closer and Hizashi was already shifting from using Shouta as a pillow to settling between his hips. They didn’t need words. Not when it was in every little thing they did.

_I love you._.

Hizashi’s gasp as Shouta scraped the edge of his teeth along his pulse; a red mark that would stand out like a beacon on pale skin. “Shou,” he breathes and its music to Shouta’s ears. Every harsh bite is followed up with a soft kiss; cool air blowing on the blossoming bruise and butterfly kisses.

_I love you_. 

Hizashi rocked his hips down and a moan escaped him- low and deep. A hand drifted down between them and jeans were popped, the drag of a zipper louder than the damn movie itself. Pale hands slipped under Shouta’s shirt to touch him, rolling the fabric up, skimming along muscle and lingering over old scars, both real and imagined. 

_I love you_.

Clothes were shed at an impossibly slow rate and that was ok. Sometimes, sex was hard and fast. Sometimes it involved tying Hizashi up and accidental Quirk damage to the walls (explaining Hizashi’s Quirk to the local cop summoned for someone “screaming bloody murder” was always a bit embarrassing). And then there were times like these- where hands traveled down old paths, where hips rolled and bucked and their names came out as rough gasps and desperate pants.

Lube was always at the ready because Shouta could never hurt him. He’d rather chew off his own hand then ever hurt him. And Hizashi knew it. Somehow, the blond had the presence of mind to grab it from the nightstand and Shouta used too much. He’d always used too much because he didn’t want-

“I can hear those wheels spinning, Shou.” Hizashi’s cheeks were flushed a bright red, hands cupping his face. “Stop.”

“I’m not-”

“Stop,” the blond murmured. “Let it go~”

_I love you._

So he did. He let things go, He let himself be carried away by the dying groans of a shitty couch beneath him, the grinding of hips and loud moans. He let himself cling to his husband, gaze fastened on his face. _Shouta_ was the cause of this. He was the reason Hizashi’s mouth was open, those _sounds_ pouring out of him. He was the reason Hizashi could barely string together a sentence.

And when they finished, they tumbled over one after the other. Together, clinging to each other breathless and sated. Exhausted. Shouta was the first to speak- his own voice was a wreck. “You ok?”

Hizashi flashed him a beaming grin. “Perfect,” he panted, jelly on Shouta’s lap. 

Shouta let his fingertips dance along the blond’s spine- an easy, gentle pet. There were a few scratches but...nothing a little Neosporin couldn’t fix. “Zashi-”

Something caught the corner of his eye- a phone on the kitchen counter? His? Hizashi’s? It was too far away to tell, but the glowing screen made it obvious someone was trying to contact them. “Mmm sorry,” Hizashi mumbled, pressing a kiss to his sweat slicked chest. “We can’t come to the phone right now. We’re dead.”

The phone seemed to vibrate even harder.

“Dead does sound nice.”

“You know what sounds even better then dead though?”

Shouta smiled; he already knew where this was going. “A shower,” he replied. They had quite a mess to clean up, after all. “Hot enough to melt steel?”

“Yes! The best kind of shower.”

The glowing screen finally died and Shouta reached up to tuck a few errant blond strands behind Hizashi’s ear. “Perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope yall enjoyed it <3 <3!
> 
> Comments, kudos, and bookmarks give me life!


	6. 6-Dabi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had modules, I said.
> 
> For work. Moduless.... Well, technically I found out I finished half of them like months ago. And I wasn't told to redo those two so... the other two I did like two days ago. I still gotta do work things cuz I'm passionate about not starving to death. But I figured since I had some free time, why not spit out another chap! 
> 
> CW: there is drug use in this chap. Namely, using a needle to inject an opiate. I figure since Dabi has extensive/severe burns, he'd need a lot of pain meds to function. A _lot_ of pain meds. So there is quick few paragraphs about injecting an opiate to numb the pain. Just a heads up.

Tonight was a Dilaudid night. The pain was relentless- tonight it was a searing burn radiating from his stitches, a heat he couldn’t escape from that seemed to curl in his chest. Most nights were morphine or even Acetaminophen if Dabi wanted to torture himself-a steady tweaking burrowed in his muscles, every movement giving Dabi pause. Every slight twitch of his fingers, the crinkle of flexible flesh and scarred skin, the inhale that felt like he couldn’t get enough air, the exhale that made his breath catch. 

Most nights were morphine. The pain was bearable.

Tonight was fucking Dilaudid.

“This place smells.”

“Don’t like it, then you can fuck right off.”

“I didn’t say that, Sparky,” the young girl huffed behind him. The lock was a bit too loose for comfort; the metal shaking in the door before it finally creaked open. Toph rubbed at her nose with her thumb as Dabi entered first. “I just said it smells.”

She was right. It _did_ smell but there was nothing Dabi could do. The rent was dirt cheap. It was a classic shithole with peeling paint and the undercurrent of mold. The floorboards creaked beneath their weight as the pair moved about and the fire escape was a rusted relic; this place was a shit hole alright. Just another fucking rat nest in a jungle full of them.

“Here,” Dabi snapped, thrusting a tray of ice into her chest. A crumpled ziplock bag followed suit, dropped on her head. “Try not to kill yourself.”

“I’ll try my best,” Toph drawled, sarcasm dripping off every word. 

Fuck, Dabi loathed kids.

Sparks were already dancing in his hands; little pinpricks of blue popping up in his palm as he brushed past her. Drugs. He needed his drugs.

Dilaudid was a fucking godsend. It was the gold standard for pain relief for burn victims (any opiate could be but right now Dabi just wanted his Dilaudid) and sterile needles were gold. Pain made his hands shake as he fumbled with the bathroom mirror; joints popping as he clutched the tiny jar, the needle trembling as he stabbed it. _Vein_ the thought was a mantra as he pulled the syringe, watching the clear liquid fill up. _Aim for the fucking vein._

Vein or muscle, but most of his body was covered in scar tissue and fresh burns- nothing easy to pierce. It took him a few seconds to find a vein in his hand and there was a burst of fresh pain; a slight burn as the needle intercepted its target. It was _heaven_ \- a sliver of ice, a feeling that made Dabi shiver as he pushed the syringe down. Sweet relief- peace.

Peace that gobbled the heat in a few short minutes, the pain that seemed to just fucking radiate off him. “Fuck,” came the weak rasp. He popped the needle out, one hand drifting for a hopefully clean cotton ball to encourage clotting. “Oh fuck…”

“...Dabi?”

Right. The kid. 

Toph had her head tilted to one side, standing in the middle of the bathroom door frame like she owned the damn place. A tiny frown was on her face, her hand was under her shirt, the makeshift ice pack snug against the small of her back. “You ok?”

_I am now._. Dabi got rid of shit; no need in letting her get stabbed with it. The trash can lid clanged in the quiet. “What do you want?”

She shrugged. “Nothing. You just sounded like you were in pain.” She pulled the ice pack out, holding it out to him. “Want it?”

Toph had metaphorical balls, Dabi would give her that. “Pah,” he snorted, “I’ll need more then fucking ice.”

She shook the makeshift pack, clearly wanting Dabi to take it. “Here. It might make you feel-”

“I don’t need your help,” the older man snarled. Dabi could take care of himself just fucking fine. 

The anger was painfully easy to spot- Toph scrunched her face, the icepack tucked under her ratty shirt once more. “Fine!”

“Fine,” Dabi snapped back.

“Fine!”

“Go to fucking bed or,” he threw a hand in the direction of his room; a quick movement before he stopped himself. Right. She can’t see. Dabi took a deep breath, more to dispel the little flame now dancing in the palm of his right hand. Just begging to be let loose. “Seven paces to your left. Turn right. It’s there. Just leave me a fucking pillow…”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For all her snark and aggressiveness, this Beifong kid was just that. A kid. _Twelve,_ Dabi exhaled, flexing his fingers in front of his keyboard. _A year younger than me when-_

No. If he was going to think about _that_ then he needed liquor. 

She was twelve and far too damn trusting to crash about twenty minutes after placing her head on the pillow. Dabi had been like that once, and he paid the price for it.

His fingers flew across the keyboard, pinkie striking ‘enter’ as he waited. Nothing. _Beifong, Runaway in China_.

That...got a few results. Beifong was a semi popular surname it seemed. Nothing pertaining to the child snoring like a 747 jet engine in the other room, though.

_Toph Beifong, Missing_.

About six links down, he found what he was looking for. A news article from China where some poor bastard picked the _worst_ picture for a missing child; Toph stuffed in a frilly looking Asian style dress, looking like she was ready to throw fists at the camera. That glare promised death, tiny lips pressed into a thin red line. Dabi snorted to himself before he could stop it; that, that he could understand.

The information in the article however, was what he wanted. Kid had gone MIA in the middle of buttfuck China. She came from old school money; well, a blue blood for the area at least. Explained why her street smarts were a bit on the lacking side. Dabi had been the same when he escaped.

He clicked on the video and lowered the volume just in case. A woman flickered on the screen- _Toph’s mother_. She had to be. The resemblance was too striking: the same pale skin tone, the same wide green eyes, the same dark hair. But whereas the Little Shit was snarky and prickly, stealing cash by the fistfuls and offering pork bao buns to burnt strangers, her mother was decidedly… delicate looking. A rounder face with the same tiny frame, the dark circles under her eyes barely visible with the makeup she used. Toph’s mother was _soft_ alright; she probably hadn’t done a hard day’s work in her life.

_“Please,”_ the pain was evident in her voice. _”Toph honey, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I- “_

_“Why are you sorry,”_ a reporter off screen. _”Are the rumors true? Is Toph your illegitimate love child?”_

_“Is this why no one knew she even existed till now?”_

_“Is this why your husband left you?_ ”

Dabi hit the pause button harder then he intended to. That loud mini rumble from the other room had gone quiet; bedsprings creaked, Toph rolling over? It didn’t take long for that snore to kick up again- louder than the damn air condition.

Dabi’s gaze darted back to the screen. There was another video below this one- a Lao Beifong? Probably her father. The mother was nowhere in sight. And unlike the mother, Toph’s father was definitely more tight lipped. Glaring at the camera with the same intensity that Toph had in the missing child picture.

_”My daughter is tiny and fragile and helpless-_ ”

Bullshit!

Tiny, fragile, helpless little girls didn’t fling cement into Dabi’s ribs. Dabi was fucking lucky it wasn’t done with harder force, otherwise he’d be dragging himself to a LOV run infirmary. Personally, the villain would peg her as annoying as shit. Stubborn, brutally honest even. And he hadn’t even known Toph for twenty four hours at this point. But _helpless_...

He clicked play again, ready to tune out every bit of bullshit nonsense this Lao was going to sprout. _”If that woman was actually competent, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”_

_"You don’t seriously blame your wife for your daughter’s disappearance do you?”_

The inhale was sharp, even through Dabi’s laptop. Thick brows narrowed as the man eyed the reporter with distaste. _”Soon to be ex, thank you. And-and Toph...my baby was sweet, once upon a time. That woman encouraged nonsense. That woman destroyed my family. M-my daughter-”_ the rest of his words were choked off by a sob, tears bubbling up.

Bullshit. All of this was bullshit. Dabi hit the exit button with a loud click and slammed the laptop shut. This- this was all-

He couldn’t even fucking think, that’s how bullshit this was. His gaze flickered from the closed bedroom door to his cell phone by his side. Toph was powerful for a kid. She held her own for the scant few minutes they clashed; if Dabi had given her enough room before starting the brawl, there was a very real possibility he could have lost. And Shigaraki would be drooling over that aspect alone.

“Fuck me,” the villain whispered to no one in particular. He wasn’t high enough for this shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews, kudos, commentary? I'm happy to read/see it all <3


	7. 7- Toph

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everybody gangsta until Toph threatens to throw these hands.
> 
> Okies! so CW: Emotional/mental abuse is the name of the game here, folks. Be warned, the Beifongs get into it in the opening scene and Dabi being Dabi (perpetually angry, prickly, and scared shitless of emotions/ affection coming from anyone) lashes out when Toph asks a reasonable question.
> 
> Shout out to Booboomon <3! Super bestie and professional character checker! You're awesome my dude.

_”-It would have been better if Toph was Quirkless, Poppy! If she was like us!”_

_“Lao, I don’t think-”_

_“No,” Father sneered and Toph could feel the glass shards in those words. “You don’t. You let her galivant out in the world! You let her brawl with near grown fucking men! What if she loses, Poppy? What if some man beats her senseless and rapes her? What will you do then? Shovel those fanciful ideas of how ‘Toph can be whatever she wants to be?’ right into her head again? Will you tell her how much the world loves her when she’s eating her meals through a straw?”_

_Mom buried her face in her hands and it was the sobs that got her. Heavy, racking things that ripped right through Toph. That demanded the young girl not be a coward. Not like the first time. Sneaking off back to bed- no. That wasn’t even a thought in her head._

_“Lao, I-I just-”_

_Toph kicked the door in._

_She used her Quirk for the force. The metal hinges bent outward, chunks of earth pushed up from beneath the hardwood floor in a single fluid movement. She saw her father jump back;that quick shuffle of feet moving back from her. The way Mom flinched, pressing herself further down to the ground. “She’d say good job,” Toph snarled as she took a step forward. Rage was bubbling through her-hot and wild, wispy clouds of dirt rising from below the shattered floorboards and encompassing her like a warm hug. “I’m the greatest Earth bender that will ever live. Test me,” she thrust her finger in his direction,” I’ll bury you so deep you won’t even have time to scream.”_

She yawned, stretching as far as she could in the bed. It was a lumpy thing on its last legs and it smelled a little like smoke. But it was soft and Toph hadn’t slept on an actual bed in _days_. So in that case, it was perfect!

She hopped out of bed and the floor beneath her groaned. Dabi was already moving about; Toph could pinpoint that telltale shuffle, the clink of glass setting on a bathroom sink and a trash can snapping closed. _Pain meds? Like last night?_

He...Toph was pretty sure he wasn’t walking with a limp? At least when they met.

“What do you want?”

Toph blinked. “Eh? Bathroom?”

A quiet huff, his weight shifting away from her. Toph padded forward and it was all an accident. She hadn’t meant to touch it! But! But there was the quick touch of metal against her shoulder; _hot metal_ , a ghost of a touch that made her yelp and jump back. “W-what was that?!”

Silence. Dabi was probably staring at her again. Or something. Cloth was definitely moving. “...My wrist.”

Wrist? “...You got staples in your wrist?”

“Yes.”

Who put staples in their wrist? She reached out, fingertips hovering where she was pretty sure his hand was. “Can I see?”

Dabi said nothing. He didn’t have to. Toph heard fabric rolling up before the back of his hand was pressed against her fingertips. So far it was typically smooth skin. Like a regular- _oh_. The staples were super hot. Such an odd barrier- metal buried in the regular skin and the-the burned mass beyond it.

“Whoooa!” Toph blinked, patting the older man’s arm. It- it was totally different from his hand! The skin was super dry and twisted beneath her fingers- rippled even. Super scarred would probably be a better word for it. Her fingertips danced back up to his wrist, brushing against staples. “What happened? Did you stick your arm in an oven?”

Dabi tugged his arm free from her hand and she heard cloth rustle. He’d yanked his sleeve down again. “I lost a fight.”

“Yeah no shit,” Toph breathed. “Is that why your voice sounds like that? All-” she waved her hands. “You know? Growly? Raspy?”

A beat. Two. Had she messed up? Toph tilted her head to one side, a few dark locks falling into her eyes. Dabi hadn’t left; she would have felt him walk off. “...They’re extensive, yeah.”

That explained the other night, then. Ice packs definitely wouldn’t do shit. Toph frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “Did you at least kick their butt?”

“I thought you had to take a shit?”

“I gotta pee, actually. I just,” Toph paused. What could she say? Apologize for being insensitive? Dabi was just as much a butt last night as she was just now. She pursed her lips, finally settling on something she could express. “Who did that to you?”

“ _Fuck off_ ” Dabi snarled. It was a sudden shift- from quiet to savage, from calm to boiling rage. _Fury_. A cruelty bubbling in his words. A sharpness in his tone that reminded Toph of _him_ and she stepped back on instinct. “Why do you want to know, huh? Why do you care?”

“I-I just-” Her throat felt tight, eyes pricking with tears against her will. What- How _stupid_ of her. “I just thought-”

“Yeah, that’s your problem.” Dabi’s voice was closer, floorboards groaning as he leaned over her. “Pretty little birds in pretty little cages aren’t supposed to think~”

_”Oh little Sparrow, if you only had sight.” Mom’s hands tremble, the stench of liquor heavy on her breath. “What a pretty little thing you’d be. What a family we could have been”_.

“Don’t talk to me like that.” Toph’s voice was barely above a whisper, her hands flexing. She wanted to ball them into fists. She-she wanted to scream. To yank chunks of sidewalk up all three flights of stairs and just toss it at his stupid face. “Don’t-”

“Then don’t ask about shit you have no fucking right to know about, you little shit.” A thin finger jabbed into her right shoulder-

_And it doesn’t hurt except it **does**. It’s the same hand that Father caressed Mom’s hand with. The same hand that threw glass at her head. The same hand that pet Toph’s head when she was a baby and had nightmares. And now it’s got her by her arm, thick fingers digging into the meat of her scrawny arm, hauling her back in the house lest she fall down-_

Toph slammed her hands forward. She hit solid muscle- a shove that had no Quirk force behind it. Just a stupid, weak shove- one that made his bare feet step backwards on its own. “You’re gonna have to hit harder than that, kid,” Dabi laughed and something in it’s broken and angry.

“...I’m better off on my own.” A sniffle followed that. A weak, stupid sniffle and Toph wiped furiously at her eyes. No. She wouldn’t give Dabi that. The young girl lifted her chin, tiny hands balled into tight fists. 

Crying- crying did nothing. Crying just got you hurt- _like Mom_. Toph’s stare turned into something harder. Colder. “Move.”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Once upon a time, her parents had been in love. Stronger than diamond, the rumors said.

Once upon a time, their lives had been perfect. The example of an arranged marriage done right, or so the rumors said.

And then Toph had been born.

“Stupid,” she hissed, bare feet smacking the ground. People were staring at her; she knew it because she could feel the pauses in their steps. She could hear the shifting of shoes turning to watch her stomp by. She could hear their whispers: _Homeless? Someone should do something. Do you want to go talk to her?!_ If anyone tried to talk to her, Toph would bash them face first into the ground. “Stupid stupid stupid!”

The soles of her feet hurt. It was actually kind of impressive, given how heavily callused her feet were; Toph hadn’t managed to make them sore in years. She’d left Dabi a while ago. Time was irrelevant to Toph, but given how she was absolutely starving, it was probably like an hour ago. 

Ok definitely more like three. Or four. Five?

She slammed her foot down harder then she intended and the crack was instantaneous; sidewalk shifted beneath her, concrete chunks sliding between her toes. “...Whoops~”

“Wow! What’s that?!”

Toph blinked; was she hearing things now? The lack of breakfast and now lunch had finally driven her insane-

Shoes were pounding against the ground, laces flopping against the ground. The person was taller than her - everyone was- and he sounded… young. Secondary school student for sure. “You just crushed the sidewalk like it was tissue paper!” A zipper was sliding down, the speaker in question digging in a knapsack of some sort. Toph could hear things being crinkled before paper was flapping. Was…

Did they just grab a notebook?

“What kind of Quirk is that?”

She pursed her lips. This...Toph really wasn’t in the mood for this right now. “...I dunno,” came the tired grumble.

Yup, he was definitely tapping a pen. “It’s really cool. I’ve never seen anything like it. I-I mean,” loose laces flapped the ground as he finally padded up to her side. “I know there was that big fight in this area; right off Reina Street. Where the alleyway got destroyed-”

“Utterly wrecked,” Toph had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning like an idiot. “It _was_ awesome. Sparky didn’t stand a chance.”

There was a pause before she heard the knapsack shift; the older boy was bowing. “S-sorry. I’m Midoriya Izuku. Um...Sparky?”

“Fire based Quirk. I smacked him with a chunk of sidewalk.”

“You _what_?!”

Toph shrugged. “You got to fight dirty when you’re outmatched, Midoriya. Sparky’s a lot taller than me.”

Now the pen was moving- scratching with such speed that Toph was surprised she didn’t smell smoke. The young girl decided to keep moving- side stepping past some dogshit, letting the ground guide her. Midoriya automatically moved with her, those loose laces flapping and telling the whole world just how loudly he walked.

He knew about the fight. Of course he would; Toph was pretty sure that alley was a mess. So a full name was out- She exhaled, rolling her neck to the right and listened to it crackle. “Toph.”

“Huh?”

“My name. You can call me Toph.”

“Toph,” the boy repeated. The pen was mercifully still. “Are, um, I’m sorry. I know its not my business but...are you alright?”

_Why?_ Toph wanted to snap. _Why do you care? What do you want from me?_ But… But that’d make her no different from Edgelord. Maybe that’s why he did a 180? He was...hurt?

Her chest tightened at the thought. Even if Dabi was upset, it didn’t give him a right to be like Father. ...It didn’t give her a reason to be like Father either.

“...Nothing you can do,” Toph huffed. “I’ll get over it.”

“But-”

“Earth sense.” They were rounding a corner, this one with less traffic. More of a residential area perhaps? Or at least a slight turn away from the main drag. “My Quirk; I call it Earth sense.”

_That_ got the pen going again. “Earth sense. So you can manipulate anything dirt based?”

A smile danced across the younger girl’s face. “Mostly yeah. I can “see,” she made quotations on the word, “so long as my feet are on the ground. I can feel vibrations and pinpoint where things are, especially if I concentrate hard enough. Like that cat.” Toph swung a hand out to the left, pointing to a tabby perched on a trash can. It was a good six or seven yards away, casually licking its front paws.

“Oh. That-that’s _really_ cool.” Toph could hear the awe in his voice. Awe and excitement; it was...weird. Or maybe it was just weird because she never met anyone who thought it was exciting before? “What else can you do?”

“Wield concrete, sand.” Toph tilted her head, deep in thought. “Both are pretty shitty though. Trying to use concrete is like,” she gestured randomly in the air, palm facing up. “”It’s bulky. Like you’re trying to carry something super heavy up a flight of stairs. I can crush it and I can lift it but I’m not as accurate with it as I am with good old fashion rock.

“And sand! Sand is even worst! Like you’re trying to grab a fistful of water and it just,” she scrunched her nose. “It slips through your fingers. It slips through mine too, just not as fast. If that makes sense.”

The knapsack jingled as Midoirya continued to scribble it down. “Huh,” he hummed. “It’s a Quirk that’s allowed you to adapt to a seeing world. You-you could be a really really _cool_ hero, you know?”

Hero? A snort escaped her before Toph could stop it. “And get thrown into some popularity contest?”

His footsteps slowed. “There’s always being an underground hero, if you don’t want...er… publicity.”

That word made her wince. Yeah, no. Toph had heard the reports while she was on the run. The frantic whirring of cameras flashing and her parents pleading for her to come back. Her parents moving from desperate pleas to clawing each other apart, blaming each other for Toph’s disappearance. “I’ll pass,” she sighed. “Look er, Midoriya right? It was nice talking to you. I got to go.”

“Ah, I’m-I’m sorry-”

Toph shook her head. “Nah, not your fault. I just got to go.” She could feel those _feelings_ coming back again. Anger. Hurt. Those things that made her want to start flinging shit and just scream. Toph offered a tiny bow before she turned away. “See you later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, kudos, and bookmarks give me life!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading <3 <3


	8. 8-Hawks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oi, that work project was a hot mess. Here's to hoping I didn't fuck things up entirely.
> 
> Anxiety is not fun, yo. I hate it lol.
> 
> Anyhoo nothing too traumatizing in this chap? I mean the Flaming Trashcan is here, and there is a quick (literally, its like the second to last paragraph) flashback of Hawks with a broken wing as a kid. I don't find it worthy of CW, but some peeps might. So just read with caution, kay? <3

“I figured you’d be here.”

Hawks didn’t bother turning around. He was too focused on the world below him: the bustling streets of the city, where people looked like tiny dots and cars were ants scurrying by on neat asphalt roads. The rest of the skyline was shimmering glass and warm steel- skyscrapers that reached for the clouds. There was something about being this high up ( _higher_ his mind hummed. _You can go even higher_ and his own wings twitched at the thought) and watching the world unfold around him. Something not even the Commission could take away.

“Hawks!”

“Eh?” The blond finally cast a look over his shoulder. Endeavour was so out of place here: bulky, even unwieldy, flames whipping wildly about. Ice blue eyes flickered from where Hawks was perched on the edge of the skyscraper, to the street below. The other man’s reaction was almost instantaneous; he shifted back, closer to the door rather than forward. _...He’s afraid of heights._ “What is it?”

“Have-” Another cautious flick to the edge of the building. “Anything to report on the villains? The girl?”

“Nope,” Hawks chirped, popping the ‘p’ for maximum effect.

Flames seemed to spike at the comment, the older man taking a step forward. “What are you doing? Just waiting for the League to obtain a walking nuke?”

“Well actually, she uses earth so she’d be more like a walking tectonic plate-”

“This isn’t a _joke_ , Hawks,” the older man snarled. “She’s a liability if they get their claws in her.”

A liability who was _twelve_. A liability whose parents were going through a horrific divorce, if the reports Hawk had shifted through were any indication. “She’s a _kid_.”

“Children can be lethal if trained right.”

A shiver danced down the Pro’s spine. Endeavour was right. Hawks knew he was right; fuck, Hawks himself was proof of that. But… 

The blond offered Endeavour a cheeky grin as a gust of wind ripped through them. Down below, it might have felt like a gentle breeze. Up here, as close to the clouds as the average person could get, the wind had a viciousness to it. A gust that could knock the unawares right over the edge. And even higher then that, higher, where Hawks loved to glide- the thermals could be down right _feral_. “I’ve got a couple leads, big guy. Besides, the country’s been pretty quiet.”

“That means nothing.”

“It means Beifong isn’t inherently evil.”

The older hero stared at him- ice blue eyes drilling into Hawks, as if that could change his mind. “You’re young, Hawks. Adventurous. Young people think they’ll live forever.” His lips pressed into a thin line. “Assuming that Beifong won’t be swayed by power, by villains that will use _anything_ to get her compliance, is going to get you killed.”

“Sounds like you’ve got her fate sealed~”

“Merely looking at a logical conclusion. Especially once she comes across them.”

Something cold and hard settled in his stomach. Hawks- He couldn’t pretend to be innocent here. The Commission had given him his fair share of cuts and scrapes, bruises and broken wings. They’d flayed him metaphorically, ripped every feather out to test how quick he could heal in a crisis. Hell, training continued even now!

Faster. Stronger. Harder. Build endurance. Run him ragged. Destroy everything that was Takami Keigo and create a designer Hawks. 

At twelve, Hawks would have given anything for Touya to hold his hand.

At twelve, Hawks had snapped another kid’s arm in two places on the Commission's orders, and then broke down crying. They had not been pleased.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Hawks hopped to his feet, boots scraping against the old stone. He noted how the older man seemed to flinch as another hard gust ripped through and for a fleeting moment or two, Hawks honestly couldn’t give a shit. He unfurled his wings, letting them stretch out to their full glory. One foot was raised, the call of the void a siren song in his blood. “I guess we’ll see~”

“Hawks-”

He dropped.

There was a feeling of weightlessness. That heartbeat where gravity didn’t exist and his breath was lodged in his throat. And then the air rushed forward- clawing at his face, ripping through his jacket before his wings caught the first gust. Hawks followed it- riding high from thermal to thermal, wing tips skimming the damp clouds, swirling around other fellow birds. He cast a glance over his shoulder- Endeavour was fast becoming another ant. A tiny figure turning away, shuffling away to a drab, boring building.

_Kid’s smart._ Hawks drifted along the currents, gaze drifting to the world below. He shifted towards the direction of Musutafu’s Red Light District. _And she’s a brawler in the making. I’ll start with that fight off Reina Street, but if she’s in the area, she’s probably come across an Unground Quirk Fighting Ring._

And besides, how hard could it be to find a twelve year old kid that can yeet rocks?  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Hard, as the answer turns out. Very very hard.

Hawks landed right in front of the alleyway itself and found...nothing. The reports had been telling the truth alright; brick walls were smeared in wide arcs of black and a dumpster off to one side was heavily leaning to one side, its metal carcass reeking of shit. The “pillars” of earth in question were small chunks of earth that almost seemed...raised? _Pushed?_ And that wasn’t even getting into the chunk of sidewalk roped off by cops, a veritable damn pothole!

Hawks frowned, reaching out to poke a pillar. Yup, that shit was solid earth-

_Sshk!_

Hawks looked up and- _Oh shit Oh fuck Oh-_

“What are you doing here,” a deep voice snarled. Blue sparks danced in an open palm, icy blue eyes drilling into him. 

“Funny,” the Pro drawled, taking a step back. “I could ask you the same thing, Dabi.”

The villain had him dead to rights. They both knew it. Even if Hawks could get a big enough push off the ground, his wings still couldn’t unfurl to their full length to catch a bit of wind and Dabi was ready to lob a fireball at his face. 

Those eyes though-

They brought up a ghost of a memory. Someone he’d wished he’d forgotten years ago. Those eyes were the same shade of blue as Touya’s were and just looking into them was enough to make Hawk's chest hurt. So ridiculous; Touya died years ago. 

Silence settled over the two men- thick and suffocating. Cold. Waiting for the other to move and not taking any damn chances. Hawks opened his mouth to speak, hands slowly rising in a gesture of surrender when a phone buzzed. “Tch,” Dabi’s fingers flexed, the sparks vanishing. “I don’t have time for this. Fuck off, birdbrain. I’m busy.”

“Yeah? So am I.” His gaze flicked to the cell in Dabi’s hand; whatever was on the screen made the villain scowl, staples pulling against his skin. “I’ve been looking for you all day.”

“Get a groupie to suck your dick. I’ve got better things to do~”

Hawks grinned before he could stop himself. “Yeah well as much as I’d like to live dangerously, I think I’ll pass.” 

Another buzz and the phone tilted enough for Hawks to catch a glimpse of a word- _Missing_. 

Well...shit. Was he-was he _looking_ for Beifong? Was Hawks the luckiest son of a bitch on the face of the Earth? 

“I want to join the League, Dabi.”

The villain shoved his phone back into his pocket, those damn eyes pinning Hawks to the spot again. He always did have a weakness for blue eyes. And apparently no survival instinct. “No.”

“No? Whaaat?” The blond exhaled, wings twitching. “Look, we both know I can be a valuable asset. I’ve got intel. You heard about a kid named Beifong?”

_That_ struck a chord. The mere mention of her name had the villain freeze- sheer fucking murder flashing in those baby blues. Hawks watched Dabi’s fingers flex, the space between them suddenly several degrees hotter then before. “...Never heard of the brat.”

Right. Hawks offered a casual shrug. “She’s a pretty powerful Quirk user from what I hear. And she might be in the area.”

“And?”

“The Commission wants her.” Not quite a lie? At least, a tiny part of him hoped it wasn’t a lie. The more logical side told Hawks to open his damn eyes. He cleared his throat, hands sliding into his pockets. He’d definitely touched a nerve. Dabi’s face was expressionless but the man’s knuckles were nearly white from how tight his fists were balled. “And I’m not a fan of throwing a kid to the damn wolves.”

Definitely not a lie.

A burst of flame danced along the villain’s knuckles-a shimmering baby blue, a beacon in the dim alleyway. “And you want the League to do what?” The man’s raspy voice dropped an octave, sarcasm practically dripping. “Save the day?”

“Nah, that’s my gig.” Hawks rocked forward, the occasional feather drifting around him. Ready, just in case he does get a face full of fire. 

“Tch. And you expect me to believe a fucking Commission lapdog?”

_The first snap makes Hawks scream; its sharp and the pain lances down his spine. One blood red wing flops uselessly to the ground, the longest feathers barely twitching but whether its from the pain or the kid trying in vain to use his Quirk, he doesn’t know._

“Believe me or not, I don’t care.” Hawks flashed a patented PR grin, even as his heart pounded in his chest. Memories of old simmering just beneath the surface. “I’m just saying, the Commission is practically drooling over this kid. And we both know they'll never stop.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read, review, kudos? I love em all <3


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